


no spotlight for the spoiled

by evils



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, basically BOYBAND TRAINEE AU, golfclaps for you if you can spot the tiny kurotsuki mention, kageyama can't play nice! he also has a crush, kageyama just wants to dance okay just let the boy dance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-09
Updated: 2014-11-09
Packaged: 2018-02-24 16:14:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2587811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evils/pseuds/evils
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Kageyama-kun, why are you here?"</p><p>"To dance."</p>
            </blockquote>





	no spotlight for the spoiled

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kittebasu (chanyeol)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chanyeol/gifts).



> this is an au very near and dear to my heart, and one that has been at the back of my mind for some time. i'm really happy that i got to write it, and i hope you enjoy!

**OCTOBER 2014. PRE-PROJECT GROUP INTERVIEW.**

**Name:** Kageyama Tobio  
 **Age:** 16  
 **Birthdate:** December 22  
 **Height:** 180.6 cm  
 **Weight:** 66.3 kg  
 **Specialty:** Dance

_**“Kageyama-kun, why are you here?”** _

_“To dance.”_

_**"Just to dance?"** _

_“...To be the best dancer.”_

_**“I see. How do you feel about dancing with other people?”** _

_“I--I’ll do what I have to.”_

_**“But you’d prefer being alone?”** _

_“...Yes.”_

 

 

-

 

Kageyama stuffs his hands in his pockets as soon as he leaves the interview room, trying his best not to get too annoyed. He doesn’t understand why he has to go through those kinds of useless procedures. It’s a waste of time, being called into a small room while they take his measurements and profile shots, and then questioned about useless things. It’s time that he’d rather spend in the studio, perfecting his form, memorizing choreography.

A group of trainees are milling around in the hallways when he emerges; they all avoid him pointedly when he walks by. He’s very aware of his reputation--”King of the Stage,” they call him. Some kind of genius prodigy, a born dancer. But they also call him selfish and spotlight-hungry, and claim he doesn’t work well with others. That’s what they say about him, and he’s aware of it all. But he doesn’t care. None of that matters; what matters is when he’s in the practice room, music flowing through his veins, movement dictated by the beat of whatever track is playing. There, he doesn’t need to be friendly, doesn’t need a team, doesn’t need to answer stupid questions or face judgement from other trainees. He just needs to dance.

“Hey Kageyama,” a voice calls as he continues down the hall towards the practice studios. It’s Sugawara Koushi, one of the older trainees. He has a friendly smile on his face and a hand raised in greeting. “I heard you just had an interview with the company? How did it go?”

“It was fine,” Kageyama mumbles. Sugawara has always been nice to him, but Kageyama’s not sure if that’s just because Sugawara is a naturally nice person or if he’s after something. When he looks at Sugawara though, soft silver hair and beauty mark and friendly smile, Kageyama can’t really picture him as someone who has ulterior motives.

“That’s good to hear,” Sugawara smiles. “I’m actually on my way to one right now. Maybe they have something in store for us.”

Kageyama perks up at that--is the company planning something for him…? He bites his lip; he knows he’s still far away from debut, but he’ll take any chance he can get.

“Well, I’ll see you later, Kageyama,” Sugawara calls as he moves on, giving a small wave.

“Bye,” Kageyama replies too late, because Sugawara is already halfway down the hallway and out of earshot.

It’s with a small sense of hope and excitement that he continues on his way to the practice room. When he gets there, he dances and dances until it’s dark and most of the other trainees have gone home. But in the quiet of the studio, his breaths echoing off the walls as he lies, drenched in sweat, on the floor to catch his breath, Kageyama smiles.

 

 

 

-

 

 

“Alright, listen up,” a man in his late twenties with dyed blond hair held back by a headband claps his hands together. “Look around you. These,” he says gesturing around the small conference room, “are your new groupmates. For now. And I’m your new manager--you can call me Ukai.”

Kageyama thinks his heart skips a couple beats at those words because-- _groupmates_? He’s being put in a group? He feels his face go a little warm, because this means he’s much closer to his goal than he’d originally thought.

There is a murmur of excitement going around the room from all the boys. Kageyama recognizes all of them--they’re from the same trainee block he is in. There’s Sugawara from yesterday; Kageyama hears he has the voice of an angel. Nishinoya Yuu, the short but energetic rap specialist is here too, along with his friend Tanaka Ryuunosuke, whom Kageyama doesn’t know much about. He spots Tsukishima Kei sitting in the back corner of the table; he’s perhaps the only trainee known for being even unfriendlier than Kageyama himself. There are a few others, but Kageyama doesn’t get a chance to observe them before Ukai is speaking again, this time pulling up one of the seated boys to the front of the room.

“You guys are going to be operating as a project group for now, but don’t let the title fool you. You have to train together, sing together, dance together, and do everything as a team. If all goes well, you’ll be moved into housing together. And _maybe_ if all things go well in the future, you can make your debut. But don’t get your hopes up, there will probably be a lot of changes before that happens. Some of you might make it, some of you might not. Anyway,” Ukai continues, gesturing to the boy he brought to the front with him, “this is Sawamura Daichi. I’m sure many of you know him already--he is going to be your group leader. He’s in charge when I’m not around, so please give him your respect.”

“Er, hi everyone,” Sawamura says, rubbing the back of his neck lightly. “I’ll do my best to lead you guys. By the way, you can all just call me Daichi. I hope we can all get along.”

“Yes, sir,” they all echo. Kageyama feels like he’s about to burst from the sheer amount of joy and excitement building in his chest. He still can’t quite believe it--he’s been a trainee at Karasuno Entertainment for only a year, and he’s already being put in a project group. His efforts really have paid off, and soon, he’ll be able to dance for the whole world to see. He shifts around in his seat a bit, fidgety from the swirl of emotions in his chest, but the meeting is still going on so he does his best to sit still.

“Now then, there should be eight of you,” Ukai mutters, pointing at each person as he counts in his head. “Sawamura, Sugawara, Azumane, Tanaka, Nishinoya, Kageyama, Tsukishima...who are we missing?”

Heads swivel around the room, as if looking for an invisible person. Kageyama scoffs; if someone is careless enough not to show up to a meeting after being summoned by the company, then they don’t deserve a spot in the group.

Just then, the door to the conference room bursts open and in flies a short, panting ball of orange.

“I’m so sorry!” the orange-haired boy yells, clapping his hands together above his bowed head in apology. “I didn’t mean to be late! I just really had to use the bathroom! I’m sorry!” he shouts.

Kageyama narrows his eyes--he doesn’t know his guy, which is weird because he’s been here long enough to recognize almost all the people from the trainee block--

“It’s fine, just don’t be late again,” Ukai interrupts his thoughts. “Anyway, you’re from a different trainee block, right? Why don’t you introduce yourself?”

Ah, so that’s why Kageyama doesn’t know him. Looking around, it seems like the rest of the group don’t recognize the orange-haired boy either.

“Hello! I’m Hinata Shouyou!” the boy yells again. “I’m sixteen, and I’ve been at Karasuno for eight months. My specialty is dancing. I’m going to be the best dancer in the world,” he declares boldly, gesturing at himself proudly.

Kageyama narrows his eyes. To say something so brazenly...he doesn’t know if he likes this Hinata person. Not to mention, what he’d said...Kageyama had been certain that he’d been the only one among the seven trainees here who specialized in dance. And the idea of sharing that spot--he doesn’t like it at all.

 

 

 

-

 

 

They are assigned a light training schedule for the first week after the project group is announced. Individual practice in the morning, team practice in the afternoon, and free time at night. Most trainees, Kageyama included, use the free time for more individual practice.

At first, their team practices are made up of memorizing dance routines from already known songs and vocal practices. Kageyama’s an alright singer, he can keep a tone pretty well. The ones who have a real talent for it are Sugawara, whose voice sounds like it could melt butter, Daichi, who has a surprisingly calming quality in his rich, smooth voice, and Tanaka, who sounds something like a rockstar.

Hinata, for all his exuberance, can’t sing to save his life. Somehow, he manages to sound sort of like a tone-deaf, screeching bird when he opens his mouth to sing.

“Wow,” Tsukishima comments after the first time they all hear Hinata, “you really suck.”

“Whatever! I didn’t come here to be a good singer, I came here to dance!” Hinata shoots back indignantly.

“How will you even debut in a group if you can’t sing the song?” Tsukishima retorts.

“I don’t know, I’ll just rap or something. Whatever! I just wanna look cool in the music video, all like ‘bwah!’ and ‘gwah!’, something like that.”

“Me and Noya-san are already the rappers,” Tsukishima mutters, but then Sugawara shushes them and they move on with the vocal exercises.

Quietly, because he would never admit it out loud, Kageyama agrees with Tsukishima. How did someone like Hinata even get into the company, and then get put in a project group in the matter of half a year? It seems a little ridiculous, and Kageyama thinks there must have been some kind of mistake. Karasuno will probably realize soon and remove Hinata from the program.

 _Good_ , Kageyama thinks to himself. _That way I can dance alone again._

 

 

 

-

 

 

“Hi everyone, sorry that I haven’t been around very often to oversee you guys,” Ukai begins another conference room meeting at the front of the room, this time holding a few sheets of paper in his hands. “But I hope you guys have all been getting along?”

“Well...seems like we’re still getting to know each other, but it’s been okay so far?” Daichi laughs nervously. It’s not exactly the case--Kageyama doesn’t think he can really call himself _friends_ with any of the other members, and Tsukishima seems to have nothing but disregard or annoyance for all but Daichi, Sugawara, and Azumane, the senior trainees. But it’s only been a week, so perhaps things will change.

Kageyama doesn’t plan to let his guard down, however. He’s well aware that while the other members are part of his group for now, they are also his competition. He doubts all of them will get to debut, and he does not plan to be one of the people who are left behind.

“Well, alright,” Ukai replies. “The company has high hopes for all of you, as you’re all very talented. But we also want you guys to know the importance of teamwork, especially in a group. Which sort of leads me to my next point--you will all be performing in this year’s Christmas showcase.”

Silence settles over the room, delicate and thin, before it bursts into an excited buzz of commotion.

“The winter showcase!” Nishinoya exclaims, jumping up on top of his seat. Beside him, Tanaka is pumping his fist excitedly. The rest of the boys are in similar states, smiling or chattering.

Kageyama feels his cheeks warm with feeling--the Christmas showcase is held every year in the company by trainees--usually with those who have high chances of debuting--for the other trainees, as well as for all the company staff, directors and managers included. This could be his chance to finally prove himself, to stand out and catch the eye of the upper management and maybe, just maybe, begin preparing for debut.

“I’m not finished,” Ukai announces loudly to the eight of them.

“Sorry,” Daichi apologizes, shushing the rest of them afterwards.

“Yes, the company wants you all to perform in the Christmas showcase,” Ukai continues, “as a group, you will be showing an original dance. The choreographers will be here tomorrow afternoon until the end of the week to work with you all, but after that you have the next month and a half to prepare on your own. But that’s not all. You are also going to be paired off into groups of two, and each group must present a performance at the showcase as well. Remember, this performance is supposed to be a duet. Keep in mind your strengths and weaknesses, as well as those of your partner.”

A partner? Kageyama feel himself stiffen slightly. Working in a group isn’t as bad as he thought, but...if it’s just him and somebody else alone? He’s not quite sure how he feels.

“Who are we being paired with?” Daichi asks.

“Here.” Ukai hands him the stack of papers he had been holding. Daichi takes one, and passes the rest. When Kageyama receives his paper, he scans it quickly.

_Sugawara and Sawamura will perform a song._

_Tsukishima and Tanaka will perform a song and dance combination._

_Azumane and Nishinoya will perform a song and dance combination._

_Kageyama and Hinata will perform a dance._

Kageyama and Hinata.

Kageyama stares at the paper. He definitely doesn’t like this. He doesn’t want to dance _with_ somebody, much less with _Hinata_ , who has proven himself to be nothing but a huge annoyance so far, of all people. Why can’t he do a song and dance combination with Sugawara or something?

Hinata looks at him, from across the room, curious and inviting. Kageyama scowls at him, and Hinata’s expression drops.

 

 

-

 

 

“Okay everyone!” Daichi claps his hands together and then puts them on his hips authoritatively. “It’s been a long week, so let’s all do our best to perfect this before the showcase. I’m sure you all know how important it is.”

They all nod. It’s the first day after their week’s session with the choreographers. It hadn’t gone perfectly smoothly; their inexperience working as a group had made itself apparent in their obvious missteps and awkward coordination. Some are better dancers than others, and it shows. Tsukishima’s long limbs sometimes make wider, less refined movements than necessary, and Nishinoya has trouble remembering the more complex bits of choreography. They’re not the only ones either--as a whole, they have a lot more practice to do before they can call themselves ready.

Kageyama himself has the whole routine down pat--the movements are second nature to him now, with how often he’s gone over them by himself in individual practice. He’s already thinking about what he can do to add to it, how he can improve the dance to make it sharper, cleaner, more appealing for the audience.

Somebody hits play, the music starts, and they all scramble into formation. Kageyama takes a deep breath to ready himself; his beginning sequence is in the front, with Tsukishima and Sugawara on either side of him. The beat plays through the speakers, loud and familiar, and Kageyama moves with it.

Midway through the song, when his position has shifted to the front again, he finds himself unconsciously executing the changes to the choreography he made up in his head. He doesn’t mean to do it, but when he watches his movements in the mirror, he knows he had been right--it _does_ look better, the moves fitting with the sub-beat of the track precisely. Out of the corner of his eye, he thinks he sees Daichi looking at him strangely, but he doesn’t say anything to Kageyama.

And then, suddenly, next to him is a head of flaming hair. Hinata has shuffled his way up to the front somehow and is dancing beside Kageyama.

“What are you doing,” Kageyama hisses. Hinata doesn’t reply to him, but he has a strange, almost challenging look in his eye. And then comes the part in the song where they have to execute a complicated turn, switching around positions to allow a new set of dancers to come to the front as the tempo of the song slides out of the chorus into the bridge.

As he turns, Kageyama runs smack into Hinata and topples to the floor.

“Hey! Watch where you’re going,” Hinata complains, rubbing his knee from where he’d fallen as well. Of _course_ it’s Hinata.

“Are you kidding me? You watch where _you’re_ going!” Kageyama retorts, getting to his feet. The others have stopped dancing now as well, gathering around them. “That wasn’t your spot, you weren’t supposed to be there anyway, dumbass!”

“Well it’s not fair that you’re at the front always! Why can’t I have the spotlight for a little bit too?”

“I’m not the one who made up the positions! It’s not my fault that you suck!”

“Guys,” Daichi says, holding up two hands to try to calm the situation, “settle down, it was a mistake, alright?”

“You’re the one who sucks! I can’t believe I have to dance with you for the showcase,” Hinata barrels on, ignoring Daichi.

“Guys?” Daichi tries again.

“That’s my line!” Kageyama replies angrily. “Duet practices haven’t even started, but I already hate them!”

“Well, that’s because you--”

“GUYS!” Daichi yells this time, glowering at the two bickering boys. “You should listen to your leader when he’s trying to speak to you,” he says, his face dark with anger.

“S-s-sorry,” Kageyama and Hinata say in unison, looks of sheer terror upon both of their faces.

“Hey now,” Sugawara cuts in, clapping a friendly hand on Daichi’s shoulder. The contact seems to make Daichi remember himself, and his rage recedes, his face smoothing back into its normally calm and reassuring expression. “I’m sure we’re all just tired from practicing all the time, right?” Sugawara says, an easy smile on his face. “It was an accident, right?”

“Whatever.” Daichi knocks away Sugawara’s hand. “Let’s all take a five minute break, and then we can get back to practicing, alright?”

The group that has formed around them disperses, and Kageyama is left glaring at Hinata before he turns on his heel to get water.

 

 

 

-

 

 

Over the next two weeks, their coordination doesn’t seem to improve. At least once a day, Hinata bumps into various people, one time knocking over Azumane by some incredible feat, another time accidentally kneeing Tanaka in the stomach. Kageyama has continued making his changes to the choreography on his own, and tries them out a few at a time at each practice.

Additionally, Kageyama takes every opportunity he can to yell at Hinata--he’s normally pretty quiet, but somehow whenever he sees Hinata mess up, the twist of annoyance in his stomach blooms into something bigger, more fiery, and he can’t help but to let it out. The two of have struck up a wordless competition during practice, and it settles over the studio heavily in the afternoons.

The duet practices had begun a few days ago, and Kageyama finds himself no less frustrated with the mess that is Hinata Shouyou.

They’re in their designated studio late one night, going over their routine for the umpteenth time. It’s impossible to get it right; every time Kageyama turns, he feels like Hinata is there trying to outdo him, and it throws his movements off, makes the both of them go into a messy disarray that looks nothing like the guide video that the choreographers had sent them.

“You should just...stand in the background and move as little as possible,” Kageyama suggests out of frustration after another failed run-through of their choreography. Kageyama has studied the video for hours, memorizing every movement, every twist, until he can see the sequence behind his eyelids. Hinata, on the other hand, hasn’t given as much attention and often tries to make up his own moves, thus throwing the entire coordination of the song off with his random, erratic movements.

“What!” Hinata shouts, looking angered. “Don’t be so selfish! This is a duet, not a solo.”

“Then why do you keep making up moves all on your own instead of sticking to what they sent us?”

“What? You do the exact same thing during group practice.” Hinata crosses his arms, looking put out.

“I’m just making the entire thing look better during group,” Kageyama tries explaining. “But that doesn’t work when it’s just the two of us, you’re messing the entire thing up.” By the end of his sentence, he finds that his voice has risen until he’s yelling at the other boy.

“Then why don’t _you_ stand in the back while I do everything?” Hinata shouts back. Kageyama just scoffs, crossing his arms haughtily.

“I knew it!” Hinata points an accusatory finger at him. “You think you’re better than me! You think you’re better than all of us!”

“Maybe at dancing,” Kageyama shoots back. “I’m certainly better than _you_ in any case.”

“You’re so arrogant! No wonder you have no friends here, and they all call you the King of the Stage,” Hinata mutters sourly, looking away.

“Don’t call me that,” Kageyama whispers angrily, balling his hands up into fists. He feels something dark twist inside of him, coiling and winding up until, finally, it snaps. “You think I don’t _know_ that? I know what they say about me, I know what they think!” he shouts, emotion unintentionally lacing through his words. Hinata is staring at him, but he doesn’t care. “None of that matters, I’m not here for them. I’m here to dance. I just want to dance.” His voice has gone back to normal volume, but it’s still rife with feeling that Kageyama thought he’d buried deep within himself. Hinata is staring at him, expression surprised but otherwise unreadable. Kageyama looks down, tightening his jaw.

It’s quiet for a while. And then,

“Me too,” Hinata replies, quietly. “I’m here to dance too, so we’re the same, right?” His voice sounds gentle, unlike the usual loud, obnoxious boy that shows himself during group practice.

Kageyama looks up at him, speechless. Amazingly, there is a smile on Hinata’s face, small but sincere. Kageyama doesn’t know what to say, because he’s always considered himself alone.

“I think I’m done for today,” he says quietly as he gathers his things heads for the door, because this is all a bit too much for him. Behind him, Hinata stands there looking at him silently. “See you tomorrow.”

 

 

 

-

 

 

Hinata doesn’t show up to group practice the next day.

“He’s never missed practice before,” Daichi muses, his hands on his hips. “Unlike _some_ people here,” he glares at Tsukishima purposefully. Tsukishima looks away, feigning innocence.

Kageyama doesn’t know what to think about Hinata being missing, but something uncomfortable settles in the pit of his stomach. They continue with practice, but somehow, everything feels off without Hinata’s boisterous energy filling every corner of the room. He tries to ignore it, but it shows through his dancing and he slips up several times throughout the afternoon in a way that has Sugawara pulling him aside at the end of practice, asking to “have a talk.”

“Did something happen between you two?” Sugawara asks gently.

“Who?” Kageyama questions, even though he knows exactly who Sugawara means. Sugawara just gives him a look, and Kageyama drops the act. “How did you know?” he asks in defeat.

“Well, I mean, Hinata’s not here today, and you seemed pretty off the entire practice. It was kinda obvious.”

“Yeah,” Kageyama sighs. “We, uh, kind of had an argument last night after our practice.”

“Ah,” Sugawara says lightly. “You two really just can’t get along, huh?”

Kageyama shakes his head, looking at the floor. “It’s not my fault he never wants to listen,” he mumbles.

“Hey, Kageyama...you know what the word duet means, right?”

“Huh?” Kageyama is thrown off by the seemingly irrelevant question. “Uh...a performance or piece with two people? Isn’t it that?” he asks, uncertain.

Sugawara shakes his head. “Not exactly. It’s a performance in which the two performers have _equal_ importance to the piece. You should think about that for a little, and then try to talk to Hinata, okay?”

Kageyama doesn’t reply. Sugawara gives him an encouraging pat on the back and turns to rejoin the group.

 

 

 

 

-

 

 

He may have missed group practice, but Kageyama isn’t going to let him skip out on their duet practice session. No matter the disagreements they may have, they are still assigned to perform together during the showcase, and Kageyama is not going to accept any slacking off for the biggest moment of his career thus far.

He waits in their usual practice room for a good twenty minutes before heading out to look for Hinata.

He’s not in the group practice room or any of the other empty ones in the building. He peeks in on some of the taken ones; he can hear Daichi and Sugawara singing through the door of one room, and the next reveals Tsukishima rapping surprisingly quickly to a fast beat, with Tanaka nodding his head in approval. However, it’s obvious that Hinata isn’t here. Could it be that he had gone home for the night already? Or perhaps he hadn’t even bothered to come in today?

Kageyama gets an idea then, and heads back to the duet practice room to grab his coat. The early December night air cuts into his skin when he steps outside, and he stuffs his hands into his pockets before making his way over to the adjacent building. The trainee blocks are split between the two buildings, so maybe Hinata is in the one that his original trainee block had been in, before he’d been transferred to join the project group.

The inside layout of the buildings are the same, so Kageyama makes his way through the hallways to the practice room section pretty easily.

Surprisingly, there seems to be no one else here. Granted, it’s pretty late at night and most trainees have returned home by now, but usually there are a few who stay behind to get in extra hours of practice.

And then he hears it--the muffled beat of an unfamiliar song coming from down the hall. The bass is heavy, and the tempo is fast; Kageyama turns towards the sound. There’s a light shining under one of the practice room doors that Kageyama automatically gravitates towards. He pushes it open carefully when he reaches it, light spilling out from inside the studio to the dimly lit hallway.

When he peeks inside, Hinata is there, dancing alone.

Kageyama stares, because this Hinata is completely different from the Hinata he sees in their usual practice. His brows are furrowed in concentration--he must not have noticed the door opening either, because his entire focus is on his own form in the mirror. He dances to a song that Kageyama doesn’t know, moving to it with an intense force and passion that Kageyama has never seen from him before. He stares, amazed, as Hinata twists and turns, power and confidence rolling off of him in waves. It’s mesmerizing and flooring all at once, and despite the fact that it’s obviously a private moment, Kageyama can’t seem to tear his eyes away. In his chest, his heart thuds soundly, nearly to the time of the fast bass of the song. The realization dawns on him that Hinata...he’s _good_ at dancing. Great, even. How had he not seen it before?

The song ends, and Hinata leans heavily against the mirrored wall, palms pressed against it to hold himself up. When he raises his head, he catches Kageyama’s eyes through the mirror and whirls around, giving a surprised exclaim.

Despite himself, Kageyama blushes, though he doesn’t know why.

“How long have you been watching me there?” Hinata asks as Kageyama steps inside the room fully, closing the door behind him.

“You didn’t come to practice today,” Kageyama says instead, trying his best to sound like his usual angry self. He just can’t manage it though, and it comes out more like a simple statement than an accusation.

“Oh. Yeah, sorry,” Hinata says, wiping some of his sweat with the back of his hand. “I just wasn’t...um, I wasn’t feeling well.”

“Oh,” Kageyama says. It’s obviously a lie, but he’s not sure how to respond. Sugawara’s words come back to him then--should he try talking to him? He’s no good at talking or expressing himself, he knows this. But, still…

“Uh, about last night--,” he begins.

“You know,” Hinata interrupts him, “I used to really hate people like you.”

Kageyama stares.

“Yeah,” Hinata gives a short, humorless laugh. “Like, people who were geniuses at what they did. So talented that they didn’t even have to try, didn’t have to work as hard as people like me.”

Kageyama’s confused, because he _does_ work hard and anyone can see that. But he doesn’t say anything, letting Hinata continue.

“And then you have the nerve to go around and act like you’re better than the rest of us! And it’s just really frustrating,” Hinata continues. “You know, when I found out I was gonna be paired with the great Kageyama Tobio for the duet...I thought I was done for. Because you’re a really great dancer, Kageyama. You really are.”

“Uh...thanks,” Kageyama finds himself saying, cheeks flushing slightly. He’s not sure what else to say, but Hinata doesn’t seem quite finished.

“But then I realized that I shouldn’t give up so easily. So then I acted out, and tried to compete with you over our dances. But last night, I think...it made me realize that I shouldn’t be trying to compete against you. You shouldn’t be trying to compete with me either. At least not for now, because until the showcase is over...we’re a team.”

Kageyama looks at him; Hinata’s still panting slightly from his dance, shirt sticking to his collarbones and hair matted to his forehead with sweat. But he’s looking at Kageyama imploringly, his eyes sincere and determined. And because he’s never been good at expressing himself, he steels himself for what he’s about to say next.

“You’re right,” he says. “Let’s...let’s try to work together from now on.” The words are quiet and feel awkward falling from his lips, but he knows that they need to be said. For reasons unknown, he feels his blush grow hotter on his face.

Hinata’s solemn expression melts away into its usual bright sunniness, and he looks absolutely delighted.

 

 

 

-

 

 

“Hey everyone,” Daichi announces at the end of their practice the next day. “The showcase is only two weeks away, and I think some things need to be said before then. Asahi...you need to step up your game. You’re not a bad dancer, so stop dancing like you are,” he begins sternly.

“Sorry,” Azumane says sheepishly, tucking his hair behind his ear.

“And _some people_ ,” Daichi looks directly at Tsukishima, “need to stop skipping practice they can hang out with the leader of City Boys. They’ve debuted already, and we haven’t. So focus on our own group first.”

This time, Tsukishima actually mutters an apology, a blush forming under his glasses. “Ohoho,” Tanaka giggles next to him, which earns him a firm elbow to the ribs.

“And you two,” Daichi fixes his gaze on Kageyama and Hinata. “You need to sort out whatever issues between the two of you before the showcase, because it reflects badly on all of us and messes up our coordination. It’s not fair that the rest of us have to suffer just because you don’t get along. And Kageyama, stop adding your own moves to our dances, it makes us look out of sync.”

“Actually,” Kageyama begins to explain that they’ve sorted it out, for the most part, but he doesn’t get a chance to finish his sentence because the door to the practice room opens suddenly.

“Hey guys,” Ukai says stepping in. “Sorry to disturb you, but I’d like to have a word with Kageyama, please.”

“No problem,” Daichi says. “Kageyama?”

Silently, Kageyama gets up and follows Ukai out the door. Ukai doesn’t seem happy, and strange nervousness settles over Kageyama’s skin as the door to the practice room shuts behind him. Ukai is quiet as well, leading them up the hall and into the conference room where they usually hold their group and manager meetings.

“Listen, Kageyama,” Ukai begins with a sigh once they’re inside, rubbing at the back of his head. “I know you’re a good kid, talented, passionate, all that. And this isn’t my call but...ah, I’ll stop beating around the bush. You’re being put on probation.”

Kageyama feels his blood run cold. Probation?

“...What?”

“Yeah,” Ukai sighs again. “Some of the upper level company folks have noticed that you don’t work well with others, said you can’t adapt yourself to be part of a team. They’ve been watching you and how you interact with the rest of your project group, especially your duet partner, and they don’t seem to be happy with what they’ve seen. They mentioned something about your pre-group interview too.”

Kageyama stares. This can’t be happening. “S-so what’s gonna happen to me?” he manages to ask, dreading the answer.

“Well, they told me that they’re going to base their decision on how you guys do at the Christmas showcase. The whole point of the project group and the duet exercise was to see how well you all work with each other as pairs and as a team. I mean, we know that you’re all talented, otherwise you wouldn’t be here. But in the big picture, debuting in a group isn’t all about showing off and being talented. It’s about actually _being_ a group, and knowing what that entails. And if you can’t do that...well then there’s no point to being in a group, is there.”

“I--I--,” Kageyama struggles for words. He thinks he can feel tears forming in his eyes, pressure building behind the sockets and he wills them not to spill over.

“If you do well, nothing will change,” Ukai explains. “But if you show that you can’t work in a group by then...you might be dropped from the trainee program. It’s not my call, and it might not happen, but it _is_ a possibility.” He claps Kageyama on the shoulder, probably as a form of comfort, but the weight of his hand just makes Kageyama feel like he’s being pushed underwater and held there, gasping for air.

“I’ll give you some time alone to think it through. Don’t worry about practice tonight,” Ukai says.

The weight comes off his shoulder and the door clicks shut, but Kageyama still feels like his lungs are being squeezed of air.

 

 

 

-

 

 

Kageyama slams open the studio door and nearly flings his gym bag onto the floor. He almost wants to cry again, and actually feels tears start to well up in the corners of his eyes. It’s a horrible, horrible feeling, knowing that he’s spent the last year of his life working day in and day out, only to have his dream be snatched away from him by something so pointless. And he’d been so _close_ too. All the trainees know that being put in a project group is a huge step forward in getting to debut, and he was _there_. He’d been at the verge of solving whatever was between him and Hinata, too, so why was this happening? He had his dream in the palm of his hands. Only now, it was about to slip through his fingers, and the thought made Kageyama ball his fists up in anger and frustration.

He’d come here, to the practice room, because there was only one thing he knew to do that could calm him.

His fingers automatically choose the song as he jams his iPod into the speakers, and the familiar beat of his duet with Hinata washes over the room.

Kageyama dances, but his movements are jerky and erratic from his chaotic feelings--this is the song that’s going to make or break him, he thinks. He scrunches his eyes shut so that he can no longer look at himself in the mirrored wall and tries to lose himself in the music instead.

After a while, it works. His limbs fall into place naturally, flowing and moving to the familiar choreography. He surrenders himself in the beat, letting his eyes stay shut as he twists and rolls and sways with the music. He feels much calmer now, even though he’s worked up a sweat. He’s dancing, and this is okay, this is _right_.

On the third loop of the song, Kageyama finds himself accommodating for the spaces that Hinata would take up with his half of the dance. He can see it in his mind--where they move in sync, where their movements contrast, and where they compliment each other.

He doesn’t hear the click of the practice room door open and the shuffle of shoes across the wooden floor. But then the music stops suddenly, and Kageyama snaps his eyes open suddenly.

Hinata is there, standing at the speakers, looking at Kageyama with a strange expression. Kageyama wonders if perhaps he’d also gotten a similar “talk” from their manager, but he doubts it. Hinata gets along with all the group except him.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Kageyama grits out, feeling some of the anger from before return.

“Just now...you were dancing to that song,” Hinata says, ignoring Kageyama’s question.

“Yeah? So?”

“It looked different than usual.”

Kageyama doesn’t reply, but he knows what Hinata means. It had _felt_ different too; despite his eyes being closed, he felt like he’d been able to see all his movements...as well as Hinata’s.

“Oi, Kageyama,” Hinata says, breaking the silence. “Let’s dance?”

Kageyama stares at him, but there is a strange energy now thrumming throughout the entire room. “Okay,” he says. Hinata presses play, and takes his spot next to Kageyama.

The music starts, and they dance.

It’s unlike any of their previous sessions, even the ones where they had almost nailed it. The beat of the track, the slice of air over his skin as he moves his arms, and _Hinata_ , moving next to him like they are two pieces of a whole--Kageyama can feel all of it acutely.

He doesn’t close his eyes this time, so he can see the two of them moving and flowing with each other in the mirrored wall. It’s not perfect--sometimes he has a misstep, or sometimes Hinata will move too widely. But it’s something. And for the first time, Kageyama thinks he understands the meaning of _duet_ : two performers in which the performers have equal importance to the piece.

The song ends; Hinata hadn’t pressed the repeat button, so the studio becomes silent. Kageyama looks at Hinata, and he knows that whatever he’d been feeling while they were dancing, Hinata felt it too.

“That was--,” Kageyama begins, but he’s cut off by Hinata.

“That was amazing! We were amazing! That was so cool!” Hinata exclaims, bouncing up and down in excitement.

Kageyama can’t help but to smile. “Yeah,” he agrees, “we were pretty cool, huh.”

“Uh, yeah we were!” Hinata continues, grabbing Kageyama by the shoulders. “Hey, did you feel something in the air when we were dancing? Kinda like...a buzz! Like a weird electricity!”

Kageyama actually feels his face go a little red, and he averts his gaze. “Yeah, I felt it,” he mumbles.

“Do you think we can do it again?”

“...Yeah. Yeah, let’s do it again.”

They dance again, running through the track three more times without stopping before Kageyama finally has to break to drink some water.

“Shoot,” he mutters as he rifles through his gym bag. He’d forgotten to bring a water bottle.

“Did you forget water?” Hinata asks, wiping his mouth after chugging half of his bottle.

“Yeah,” Kageyama replies, still digging through his bag. Maybe it’s just buried under some clothes or sneakers--he usually has one with him at all times.

“Here, you can have some of mine,” Hinata says, his voice a lot closer than expected. When Kageyama looks up, Hinata is crouching down beside him, water bottle held in his outstretched hand. And he’s so _close_ \--a lot closer than necessary, leaning into Kageyama’s space with that honest, lively glint in his eyes and his vibrant hair damp with sweat and his face flushed a pretty pink from the exertion of dancing. Kageyama stares, caught up in how utterly _beautiful_ he thinks Hinata looks in this very moment--how would he react, maybe, if Kageyama reached forward to brush his cheek with the back of his knuckles, if Kageyama leaned forward and put his lips--

He stands abruptly, face burning. “No, that’s--that’s okay,” he fumbles over his words a little, feeling the tips of his ears go hot. “I’ll just get something from the vending machine.”

He bolts from the practice room then, leaving Hinata looking rather confused as he nearly slams the door behind him.

He jabs two fingers against two different vending machine buttons before realizing belatedly that he hadn’t even put any money in; in fact, his money is still inside the practice room, in his gym bag.

Sighing, Kageyama leans heavily against the vending machine, sliding down until he’s sitting with his elbows propped on his knees. He puts a hand against his chest, trying to calm his heart, which has taken to resembling a coffee percolator. It beats madly against the skin of his palm, and Kageyama bites his lip. Stupid. He was being stupid.

And over Hinata Shouyou, of all people. A dumbass, orange-haired, overeager, annoying, inexperienced, determined, hardworking, sincere, _beautiful_ \--

Kageyama holds his head in his hands. On the outside, he looks like someone breaking down against the vending machine. But behind his arms, he can do nothing to stop the slow, wide spread of a smile across his face.

 

 

 

-

 

 

“Wow, that’s actually...really impressive,” Daichi comments among the light applause that the group is giving them. Kageyama and Hinata have just finished showing their perfected dance to the rest of the group, who are sitting in a semicircle on the practice room floor.

“Yeah! You guys were really cool,” Nishinoya exclaims, jumping up to clap both of them on the shoulders.

“Good work, you two,” Asahi compliments. Sugawara just smiles at them warmly, and gives Kageyama a look like he’s proud of him. And it actually does make Kageyama feel proud, because they’ve been working tirelessly each night on top of regular practice before showing it to the rest of the group.

“Thanks! It _was_ cool, right?” Hinata jumps, still bursting with energy and enthusiasm. “Do you think it’s ready for the showcase?”

“Actually, yeah,” Daichi says, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “I think you two are good to go. By the way, I’m glad you worked out whatever it was between you two. I knew you’d do great if you came together as team,” he adds.

“Ha! You mean you’re glad Kageyama took the big stick out of his butt, right?”

“Oi! Dumbass!” Kageyama snaps. “It’s not my fault you have no sense of direction!”

Hinata just sticks his tongue out at him, and Kageyama growls. The rest of the group laugh, and everything feels right.

“But that doesn’t mean your work is done,” Daichi says with a commanding tone. “Remember, we still have the group choreography to work on.”

 

 

 

-

 

 

The final week of practice goes by more smoothly than Kageyama could have hoped for. At first, he has trouble getting the same type of flow with everyone else that he has developed with Hinata, but he gets there. It’s actually Sugawara who pulls him aside and explains to him while the rest of them are taking a break, “whatever you did with Hinata...can’t you try and see if it’ll work for the rest of us, too?”

So Kageyama tries--he pictures where and how each of them will move in his mind before falling into step, and their group dance begins to feel as natural as breathing.

He doesn’t tell anyone about his birthday two days before the showcase. That night, they sit around the practice room, which has begun to feel like a second home, joking around after finishing their final run through for the day. Nishinoya is excitedly showing the rap verse he’s going to be performing with Asahi while Tanaka has stolen Tsukishima’s glasses to try on, much to the taller boy’s annoyance.

Kageyama sits off to the side, watching it all. He looks at Hinata, who is enthusiastically clapping along to Nishinoya’s rapping and showering him with praise, and feels something warm bloom in his chest. The feeling spreads, across his skin, down his arms and legs, up to his face.

Someone settles down next to him with a quiet sigh, but Kageyama is too busy watching Hinata to notice.

“You’re being obvious again.” It’s Sugawara, and Kageyama jumps slightly at his voice. He immediately reddens at the words, averting his gaze quickly.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kageyama mutters. Sugawara just laughs lightly and pats him on the shoulder.

“Happy birthday, Kageyama,” he says while standing up. He doesn’t wait for Kageyama to reply before migrating back to the group. Kageyama watches him go, and then settles his eyes back on the six other boys sitting on the floor.

 _Yeah_ , he thinks to himself, _it is a happy birthday._

 

 

 

-

 

 

“Alright everyone,” Daichi says, gathering the eight of them around backstage. “This is it. We’ve prepared a lot for today. Let’s go out there and give it our best. We can do this!”

Kageyama looks at all of them in the circle and somehow, it feels like _home_ \--Sugawara has his trademark calm smile, Nishinoya and Tanaka look beside themselves with excitement, Tsukishima is trying to look unaffected, Asahi has a nervous but sincere smile in place. Beside him, he can feel a warm hand slide into his, fingers lacing together like they were meant to be there. Hinata looks up at him, eyes wide with energy and something else, something _deeper_ , something that warms Kageyama down to his center. He gives a light squeeze to Hinata’s hand before he drops it so that they can take formation.

The dark of the backstage is flooded by light as the curtains open, and the music begins to play.

 

 

 

-

 

 

**JANUARY 2015. MID-PROJECT GROUP INTERVIEW.**

**Name:** Kageyama Tobio  
 **Age:** 17  
 **Birthdate:** December 22  
 **Height:** 180.8 cm  
 **Weight:** 66.5 kg  
 **Specialty:** Dance

_**“Kageyama-kun, why are you here?”** _

_“To dance.”_

_**"Just to dance?"** _

_“To dance with my group.”_

_**"Oh? So you don’t want to be the best dancer anymore?"** _

_“No...I do. But I also want my group to be the best group.”_

_**I’m very glad to hear that, Kageyama-kun. How do you like your project group?** _

_“They're...nice. I like spending time with them.”_

_**"And do you enjoy dancing with them?"** _

_“...Yes.”_

**Author's Note:**

> you can't tell me that kuroo's group is not called city boys. you just can't.
> 
> a million thank you's to everyone who read this til the end! huge smooch to the loveliest of lovelies, e, for bearing with me all this time! i'd be lost without you!
> 
> dearest recipient, thank you for the most wonderful dear creator letter! i sincerely hope that you enjoyed this!


End file.
